


i’ll marry you

by maketea



Series: fictober 2019 [13]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Cuddling, Dorks in Love, Established Relationship, F/M, Fictober 2019, Fluff, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, pre reveal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-14
Updated: 2019-10-14
Packaged: 2020-12-14 21:04:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21022256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maketea/pseuds/maketea
Summary: chat noir talks to his sleepy girlfriend about their future.





	i’ll marry you

**Author's Note:**

> fictober day 13: “i never knew it could be this way.”

“Ladybug?”

“Mhm?”

“Would you ever want to get married someday?”

Chat Noir wasn’t sure she heard him. Her head was still on his chest, her breaths still slow, barely moving unless it was to sleepily grab his arms. She must have been so tired. Her eyes had been drooping since he started to rub her back, and though he couldn’t see her face, he figured she was still struggling to keep them open.

“Married…” she mumbled. “To you?”

“Yeah.”

She yawned, and buried her face into his collarbone. “Isn’t it obvious?”

He smiled. “I want to marry you, too.”

They were both quiet for a minute. If he wanted to keep her awake, Chat Noir probably should have stopped drawing circles on Ladybug’s back — but she liked it so much, how could he stop? Every once in a while, she hummed, then squeezed his torso a little tighter.

“What sort of wedding would you want?” he asked.

Once again, he wasn’t sure if she had fallen asleep. Just in case, he lifted his free hand and carefully massaged her head. 

“A quiet one, I think,” she said.

“Who would we invite?”

Her hum returned softly, vibrating through her limp body and into his. “Parents… best friends…” Ladybug yawned again into the back of her hand. “Nadja Chammack…”

“Nadja Chammack?”

Ladybug made an odd sound. Then, she shuffled around, and rubbed her eye. “I wasn’t meant to say that, but yeah, sure. It’d make a nice news report.”

“What about Alya Césaire?”

“Of course Alya Césaire.”

They lapsed into silence — though with her heavy breaths, and the wind, and the sussurring roads somewhere behind the building they were lying on top of, it wasn’t much of a silence. Chat Noir let go of her waist to cup her cheek, instead.

“We could have rose petals,” she murmured onto his suit, and leaned her face into his palm. “Rose petals… everywhere. And a _ biiig _ chocolate fountain.”

“Uh-huh?” He failed at keeping the smile out of his voice. “Where would we keep the chocolate fountain?”

“Beside the… the thing…” Ladybug scrunched up her eyebrows. “The thing I walk down before we say our vows.”

The air suckerpunched out of his lungs. For a moment, he forgot they were playing a game of hypotheticals. It would have been so easy to close his eyes, and pretend he was holding Ladybug on a rooftop in Paris on the eve of their wedding. That she had fallen asleep talking about their guest list, and their chocolate fountain, and the little venue where they would say their vows.

Ladybug, in a lacey wedding dress, floating up to him on a long white carpet covered in rose petals. Clasping his hands and looking up at him with her Ladybug eyes — those eyes that floored him whenever they squinted, whenever they widened, whenever they closed before he kissed her — and promising him till death do them part.

The sudden wind and the girl stirring in his arms helped him collect himself. “Th-the aisle?”

“That.” She didn’t stop moving, and ended up rearranging her arms so she could have her palms flat on his sternum and rest her temple on her knuckles. “So we can get married and have melted chocolate together.”

Chat Noir glanced at the bottle of water beside his head — the one Ladybug tried swigging from and poured all over herself. “You’d spill it on your dress.”

“Shut up.”

He chuckled, and used his thumb to stroke her cheekbone. “Do you want kids?”

“Uh-huh. Our kids would be pretty.”

His chest squeezed. _ Their _kids. His kids with Ladybug. Ladybug’s kids with him.

“How would they look?” Chat Noir asked. 

He’d thought about it before, of course. Morning light streaming into their bedroom through thin linen curtains. Ladybug’s head on his arm. Waking her up with a kiss that their two beautiful children with bluebell eyes would interrupt by milling in with their chubby arms and legs and faces and leaping under the duvet with their _ Maman _ and _ Papa. _

“They’d have my hair,” she said.

“All of them?” 

“Yeah. In biology, we learned about black hair having a… something. A dominant… almond.”

He held in his laughter. “Allele?”

“That’s what I said.”

Stroking her dark hair, he smiled. A little baby girl with thin tufts of hair in that same colour, he thought. He was lucky Ladybug was too sleepy to see him blush.

“What did you learn about eye colour?” he asked.

“I don’t know, Chat Noir, I haven’t studied in a week.”

Her sleepy temper made his heart beat a little faster.

Maybe when they were married, when he could spend every night watching her fall asleep, Chat Noir could poke and prod at that temper until she told him to go to bed. 

Pushing her fringe from her brow, he looked down at her closed eyelids. They twitched under the glow of a street light. 

“I hope they have your eyes,” he said.

“Then they’d look just like me.”

“Isn’t that perfect?”

She giggled. Wiggled around. "They should have your smile, though."

"My smile?"

"Yeah. It's so pretty. I love looking at it."

If Ladybug hadn't looked so comfy nestled onto his chest, he would have tilted her head up and kissed her. For the sake of her closed eyes and actually wanting to live to see their first blue-eyed, black-haired baby, he left her be.

Hypotheticals were addictive. Chat Noir wanted to press her with more — ask her what their kids' favourite subjects would be, whether they would want to sit with _ Maman _ while she sketched or _ Papa _ while he read. 

There was a chapel nearby, across the street to the building they were on. 

He could scoop her up and take her there right now. Find a notary, or a priest, or whatever the hell you needed to spend your life with someone you love, and marry her that night.

But fifteen-year-olds couldn't marry, and Ladybug was sleeping — two obstacles Chat Noir had no chance in defeating.

"You know," she said slowly. It made him jump — he didn't think, with the back rubbing and caressing and soft talking, that Ladybug managed to keep herself awake. "I never knew it could be this way."

"'Th-this way'?"

"Yeah. I thought being in love with you would be hard." She paused. "Not like I had much of a choice, either way."

When she first told him she loved him — which would have been eight months ago the next day, in fact — she yanked him down and kissed him hard. Even when she was mumbling against his lips, soft and desperate 'I love you's that almost sounded like she was crying, Ladybug didn't pull away.

It was fine. More than fine. She did what he had been wanting to do for an eternity.

He tucked her hair behind her ear. "Why would it be hard?"

"Identities and stuff." She stretched out her arms. "It makes me sad I can't be with you every day yet, but I'm happy I can be with you like this. I know we'll know each other one day."

"And then you'll marry me?" In her lacey dress and Ladybug eyes.

She laughed softly. "Yeah… I'll marry you."

Ladybug's breaths grew heavy and periodic. He took a peek at her face — she was out like a light.

Chat Noir looked up at the night sky, at the stars — or aeroplanes, he could never tell — and played with her pigtail absentmindedly. The chapel bells rang out behind him.

"Mr and Mrs Agreste…" he said under his breath. He glanced down at her, heart full — overflowing — and kissed the top of her head.

**Author's Note:**

> this started off as self-indulgent but ended up as self-care after watching loveeater


End file.
